


1971: A Space Oddity

by OldboyJensen



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut?, Genderfluid Character, Listen I really don't know? this is mainly gonna depend on reception, Other, Robot Anatomy, Robot/Human Relationships, Temporary Amnesia, alien robot, extra apendages, robot terminology, servos compendium means arm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 13:52:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18624574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldboyJensen/pseuds/OldboyJensen
Summary: So you're an alien robot who crash landed in New Mexico I guess. Not that you know that. Your memory is acting up and you're not sure who you are, what you've been doing, or where you are. All you know is that these two biological, carbon based life-forms are intriguing and have "faces" with similar construction to yours. Though you don't get what all those protrusions or holes on their faces are for.A/N: I have no idea what I'm doing I have so much else I gotta do but like. Well, this happened. I don''t know if there's gonna be smut or romance honestly it depends, and I'm thinking there might be a route for each of them, both if there's interest, but like. All depends on reception and comments.





	1971: A Space Oddity

You’re not sure what you’re doing here or who you are, but the sun is bright and it’s warm. Very warm, you for a second think that potentially your circuits might overheat, but a reminder set in your cerebral processor vetoes that assumption. Your internal regulatory system was developed to continue function in severe environments. A memory almost plays itself in the upper portion of your rotary optic processors, but instead there is a s “bomp” sound and a popup error message flashes. 

VISUAL EXPERIENTIAL RECALL SYSTEMS OFFLINE  
Manual administrative troubleshooting input necessary

Cool.

This is not stellar. You thank your processor for at minimum retaining language recall, but image and experience in combination to your intelligence programming would be preferable. 

A preferable level of HIGH.

You optically survey your surrounding environment again, as well as the externally visible aspects of your corpus. He world around you appears to have a blue tinted atmosphere with few stratospheric streaks of vapor visible at your current location. However, surveying the curve and trajectory of the horizon, you hypothesize that you have found yourself on a full planet. The gravitational pull indicates a comparatively midling molten core planet, and just in a [500 meters human measurement] radius (outside what appears to be a fresh crater), your elemental scanation picks up several small biological carbon-based lifeforms metabolizing and expelling oxygen. Something in this information prompts another recall error to flash with that same “bomp.” You do appear to be archiving cerebral information, however, and thank your memory systems for this fact. 

Of course, the twisted, disintegrating, sparking, and charring of what your intelligence system identifies as an interstellar transportation and research collection vessel around you pulls you out of the “gratitude state” very quickly. Your elemental scanation and infrared thermography analysis determines several [x] based life forms cooling and decomposing at a disturbingly (another bomp when searching significance) rapid rate. In fact, everything around you appears to be decomposing into its raw elemental components except the ground itself. Your corpus shifts as the shreds of vessel crumpled and tangled around you decays. You realize that now may be the time to assess potential damage to said corpus.

Your outer shell remains intact. There do not appear, from an internal scan, to be any complications with your core survival functions, processor, or fuel sources. Aside from inability to access past experiential data. You have a hypothesis that planetary impact, if it occurred, may be correlated to that situation. Atmospheric burnup and impact may also be correlated to the disintegrating vessel. This is uncertain. Your corpus shifts again, sliding toward the planet’s uncomfortably close surface. You scan through your directory of epithets for a word appropriate to the situation. 

Your servos and digits on your left side stretch and close suitably. That side, including your shoulder-blade and pelvic rotator appear to have retained full range of motion. The indicator panels on the joints flick green to indicate proper movement capabilities. 

Attempting to access the right side’s movement, however, brings forth some unsatisfactory results. Your pedal servos and pelvic rotator function well enough, but your torso’s second servo compendium appears to be missing everything beyond your shoulder attachment joint. That panel blinks red in response. What is left of that panel, of course. Your primary servo compendium on the right side, and its complementary shoulder, are functioning at 50-25% motion capability. You scan through your directory of epithets for a word strong enough to fit the current situation. 

A moment later, you fall [ten meters] to the crater floor. You hit with no pain response, you’re much tougher than a simple fall, but then gravity takes control of your corpus and you roll like a dislodged pebble down into the deepest point of the pit, just outside the still fizzling crumpled ball of the… [bomp] vessel.

Here, you lay still to assess damage. Thankfully, you do have the opportunity to locate and clamp you right primary servo’s digits around your flashing red secondary compendium. It is only half the length as usual, and several digits are sparking or cramped, but its existence is a helpful discovery. You can literally not unclamp your primary digits from it, which is only somewhat helpful as the rest of the primary compendium is limp.

You should be able to move your lower half enough to move out. You utilize your primary left servo compendium to push yourself to standing. Your right pedal servos flicker to orange, as they operate only at 75% function. 

This is not the most helpful discovery.

Still, it is enough. You begin an uncomfortable trek up the side of the crater, struggling to grip the slope well enough to fight against the planet’s gravitational pull. This form of climbing was never your primary function, you hypothesize. 

Your auditory sensors process a loud vibration of sorts from beyond the crater, and you can feel it in the flats of your servos. Then, it stops just above you. A carbon monoxide expelling… non biological…life form? You are unsure how to process the thermography. However, two of the main sources of heat separate from this mobile form and make weird noises. Your optics cannot yet process them, but you do allow your audio processing to scan for potential arbitrary patters signifying language. 

The result is affirmative. Your r’osetta processing and analysis matrix sparks into activation. You quickly come to a surface “understanding” of what is being “said.”

“-could be hostile.”  
“An what in the Sam Hill is a machete gonna do against em if they are? Overlookin’ the fact that the odds of anythin’s left after burnin’ up in the atmosphere are slim to none.”  
“’s not what me kukri can do, it’s what I can do with my kukri.”  
“Right, kukri. Look son, weird posturin' aside, don’t get your hopes up it’s anythin’ more’n an asteroid is all I’m…sayin’…”

There is a pause. You have been able to identify two sentient, sapient organisms expelling carbon dioxide from cross analysis of vocal structure and external elemental makeup.

“Hooley fucking dooley, that’s one big buggering hole.”

You have no idea what half of what this means, but something about the tonality and syntax is more than satisfactory. In fact, it causes you to involuntarily open your mouth and emit something a human might identify as a laugh, to release this excess in satisfaction. 

The two voices go quiet, there is some shuffling, and something you recognize to be similar to servos holding on to the edge of the crater above you appears. It is followed by a somewhat symmetrical chemical transfer surface that your database links to the concept of “face.” Two orange tinted optic visors, strange textures and protrusions, then something resembling, potentially, a mouth. Some sort of fibrous, carbon based, textured, extensions frame this “face.” More of the same material grows longer at what appears to be the base of their neck. That “face” is similarly proportioned to your own. 

"?"  
“Bloody h-...uh, Oi... Engie, you speak space robot?”  
“Do I wh-woah nelly.”

The second voice, peeks their “face” over the edge as well. They have circular, brown tinted optic visors, a yellow ventral carapace, different shaped protrusions, and much less of the strange fibrous extensions. The “face” is also somewhat more compact and square-ish.  
Finally, the r’osetta analysis matrix’s operations greenlight matching verbal transmission.

“Are you like me? Do you know who I am?”  
From the way that they scramble back from the edge with what you recognize as panicked hollering, you hypothesize that the answer is “no.”


End file.
